


Favourite Toy

by Green_Sphynx



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: 24/7 BDSM, Anal Plug, Anders in a corset, BDSM, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, F/M, Group Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Multi, Object Insertion, Objectification, Praise Kink, Service Kink, Sex Swing, Sex Toys, Spanking, lap dance, objectify the mage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-26 07:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9873572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Sphynx/pseuds/Green_Sphynx
Summary: #Objectify the mage: Anders becomes the shared toy and he loves it





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kinkmeme [prompt](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/16884.html?thread=64347892#t64347892): Anders/Everyone - objectification  
> Long prompt, so I will not copy/paste it here. I will try to put almost every part in but I fear I won't actually manage. But I try.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is in no way an attempt at writing a healthy bdsm relationship. This is a bdsm _fantasy_ and entirely romanticised, regardless of the fact that consent is a recurring theme. So read it as such and remember to be **safe, sane &consensual**!

Naturally, it all started with Isabela.

She had always been a hands-on sort of person; quite literally and with everyone she deemed even mildly attractive. Anders was just one of the many people she gave a regular pat on the butt. She liked to do this especially to… well, to everyone really. Even Varric wasn’t spared the touches just because his butt was not in direct range of her hand. Even _Aveline_ had to suffer her appreciation.

The thing was, Anders was the only one to clearly enjoy it.

He didn’t say a word, of course. He just flushed, but pressed back slightly against her hand. The others would either tell her off straight away or discourage her otherwise – even Hawke, who didn’t mind her touches at all, did not encourage the public feeling up.

Anders did.

Wordlessly and blushing like mad, but he encouraged it every time by moving back against her and glancing up to meet her eyes and coyly look away. He wasn’t even doing it intentionally, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the attention.

Needless to say, Isabela took notice.

It was only a matter of time before she started to give him special attention. His butt received an extra pat here and there, until finally she wouldn’t pass him without specifically giving him a small slap. Then it turned to groping, then hearty squeezes lasting a little longer than something you did just in the passing.

Eventually they ended up with Isabela languidly kneading one butt cheek while Hawke haggled with a merchant, long minutes of nice and wholesome attention to his ass while his cheeks burned and his cock twitched.

After that, she clearly deemed him ready for the next step.

The first time she grabbed his crotch, he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a squeak of surprise. She grabbed him in a firm hold, kneading for a second before giving him a good rub with the palm of her hand, grinning at him lasciviously. He was hard in a matter of seconds, but she stopped at that.

And a good thing too, because they were in public.

She didn’t do it again for the rest of the day, only giving him the occasional slap to the butt like she used to, making him ache for more but too embarrassed to ask. He let her do as she pleased, no matter how torturous.

And he was rewarded in the evening.

When they arrived to the Hanged Man, she pulled him to her room across the hall first, ignoring their friends filing into Varric’s suite. He found himself pressed down on her bed and her hands rubbing against his crotch. After a long day of arousal being ignored, he got hard so fast it almost hurt.

“You like being a toy for me to play with, don’t you?” She purred, squeezing his erection once before letting go and raising up to loom over him. She smirked knowingly while he nodded, quick to agree, eager to please. She hooked her thumbs beneath the visible straps of her thong, pulling them down over her thighs until she could drop it to fall by itself. With slow, teasing movements she stepped out of the garment before crawling on top of him.

Anders bucked his hips, hungry for friction against her, but she didn’t stop to give him the pleasure. She moved up higher, pushing his head back against the sheets until she could settle over his face, grinding down against his lips.

“Be a good toy, Anders.”

He wasn’t just a _good_ toy. He was a _hungry_ toy. And a toy very eager to eat her all out.


	2. Chapter 2

“Sooo… you and Blondie, eh?”

Isabela hadn’t really given him time to cool down or pull himself together in any way, so at least he couldn’t blush any harder. His face was still flushed bright red from their activities, and he could still taste her on his lips. He was dishevelled and ruffled in a way that was almost _too_ obvious.

“Don’t be silly,” Isabela all but crooned. She didn’t even look at Varric to respond, just reaching up to wipe something off Anders’ cheek. _He could easily imagine what that was_. “If you say it like that, it’s like there’s something going on between us. But he’s just a toy, aren’t you sweet thing?”

Anders licked his lips nervously, too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eyes now. And yet he nodded, the thrill of the humiliation arousing him beyond belief. He should’t like this. He should hate Isabela for humiliating him in front of their friends – in front of Fenris, whom he already had enough trouble with!

But he was loving it, and he was still suffering the same erection she had coaxed into full hardness earlier.

She slipped around him, hands sliding over his clothed front sensually. He imagined she was meeting the eyes of everyone he didn’t dare look at while he stared at the paths her nimble hands were walking almost fearfully.

They slipped down to press on his hips, making him push his ass back against her. More importantly though, it drew everyone’s attention to how hard he was.

At least Merrill and Sebastian had the decency to gasp.

“But he’s my _favourite_ toy. I recommend trying him out some time. I’d happily share him with all of you.”

“Isabela…” There was an uncertain tilt of reproach to Hawke’s voice, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. Not surprising at all.

Anders curled in on himself, humiliation burning in the pit of his stomach, making him feel almost ill. The thrill of arousal was waning in the fear of people getting upset.

He could handle disdain, but not anger. What if they got angry? He was disgusting and he knew it.

“Anders loves the attention, don’t you sweetcheeks?”

One of her hands made its way up, patting his cheek in an almost gentle gesture. It calmed him down a little, knowing she at least cared. He wouldn’t deny enjoying being nothing but a toy, but the least he could hope for was to be a toy she _liked_.

“Let him go, whore. You’re making him uncomfortable.”

Isabela’s hands left him, but it didn’t make him any less uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, really.

He shivered and edged back until he bumped into her once again, and she cooed proudly at him when she embraced him like she had before.

“Are you serious? Do you want to be… _used_ , Mage?” Fenris sounded intrigued. Not disgusted, barely even confused. Just intrigued. In hindsight, Anders thought he heard something similar in Aveline’s voice earlier.

Isabela’s arms were comforting around him, and he sucked in a deep breath before he dared to answer. His lips parted, but then he quickly closed his mouth again and simply nodded, refusing to look up at the elf.

“Any of us?”

He nodded again, not looking up. Hawke sounded like he was already decided anyway.

Isabela’s hand came up again, fingers wrapping around his chin and pushing his face up. Despite the embarrassment he let himself be handled willingly, allowing her to aim his face towards Hawke.

“You want Hawke to use you like a toy, sweet thing?”

He gulped, meeting the man’s heated stare, and nodded. Isabela moved his head, making him look at Fenris next.

“You want Fenris to use you like a toy?” He nodded again, daring to meet the other’s eyes only shortly. There was nothing but hunger in his gaze, and it turned Anders on all the more.

Isabela kept moving, calmly asking the question for every person in the room. Never assuming, always letting him answer.

He never shook his head. He was trembling by the time she was done with him, his knees buckling, but it was only arousal. He had not seen anger in anyone’s eyes. Hesitation, yes; but not even disgust. Almost always a form of hunger he had barely dared hope for.

“Good. Now that’s settled, it’s time to play.”

Isabela let go of him, but she was kind enough to help him to a chair. She sat him down first before sitting on his lap, wiggling back until her bare butt was rubbing against the bulge in his robes just enough to give him the friction he wanted.

“Are you going to deal the cards today, Varric, or do we need to wait until morning? Come on, I have coin to win!” She laughed uproariously, and people sat down with no small bit of hesitation. Anders knew exactly what was happening.

He knew exactly what she meant to happen.

Just another Wicked Grace night.

She leaned back to lick his cheek, snickering against his skin. “You can cum if you want, sweet thing, but if anything seeps through your robes I expect you to lick me clean, understood?”


	3. Chapter 3

Things were… mildly awkward after that. Anders tried to act normal, but his friends kept giving him these long calculating looks, as if trying to decide whether or not they could feel him up freely now.

At least Isabela kept up like she had been, quite happily touching and groping whenever she felt like it. And Anders was more than happy with her attention, shying away from the awkwardness and straight into her welcoming arms.

She made promises with sweet little whispers that the rest would come around, and they just had to get used to sharing a toy. They just weren’t used to using a sex toy in public, that was all.

Being called that went straight to his crotch, and she teased him with some more gropes before leaving him be. He honestly hoped she’d be using him that evening, because the tension was maddening.

So far she hadn’t let him finish.

She hadn’t said he couldn’t finish either – the opposite, really – so he took matters in hand by himself late at night in his own rickety cot. Justice didn’t disapprove, to his surprise.

He had always been certain Justice didn’t approve of the carnal desires, but he had been nothing but accommodating. As long as Anders kept doing his duties, kept working for the cause.

Justice did not disapprove of Isabela, nor of her public use of him. He did not disapprove either when Hawke tried some careful touches, and Anders was more than eager to encourage him by pressing back into his hands whenever they brushed against him. He was nothing like Isabela yet, but it was a start.

Anders was disappointed that evening when they stopped in front of Hawke’s estate and she left them with a playful wave. He watched her leave with a small pout, not noticing Hawke’s approach until the man took hold of his hand.

A flush crept on his face while Hawke bid the rest goodnight and then tugged him into the estate, no explanation offered.

No explanation _needed_.

The door was barely even closed before one large hand pressed down on his shoulder, softly as if not wanting to use force. Still giving Anders a way out.

He had no interest in a way out.

Anders fell to his knees and his hands found Hawke’s belt immediately, struggling with straps of armour until he could pull free the laces of his breeches. Hawke was already half hard when Anders leaned in to take him into his mouth with an eager lick and suck.

Hawke’s moan reverberated through him, one hand with sharp gauntlet tangling into his hair. It hurt where the metal joints caught when the tie was tugged from his hair, but it didn’t matter.

Anders moaned in arousal for Hawke’s trouble.

“Isabela wasn’t kidding,” Hawke moaned, his hand starting to move to lead Anders’ head into the desired bobbing. “You’re easy as any toy, but much better. Guess we’re lucky she shares.”

Anders would’ve pulled back to reply – he wasn’t hers, he was Hawke’s now and he could be anyone else’s tomorrow – but Hawke didn’t let him. He didn’t try to struggle. He was here to be used.

He was just a toy.

He was a toy sucking and licking and when Hawke’s grip on his hair tightened he let his jaw go lax, welcoming Hawke’s cock deeper into his throat. He gave absolutely no resistance when the man started to fuck his throat in earnest, thick cock rutting through the tight confines while he swallowed and moaned, breathing only when Hawke allowed it.

With a harsh groan Hawke finished, his seed spurting directly down Anders’ throat while he was held still with his nose pressed into dense black curls. His throat worked feverishly, face bright red with the exertion, but he couldn’t help moaning, couldn’t help squirming in arousal.

When Hawke finally released him he slumped back to heave for air, watching with lidded eyes as Hawke made a token attempt at getting himself presentable again.

“Safe trip home, Anders. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you. Hawke,” he croaked, even as his cock twitched in desperation for touch. “See you tomorrow.”


	4. Chapter 4

“I propose we play for a different prize than just coin today.”

“We’re not playing strip Wicked Grace again, whore.”

Isabela laughed – her ‘you’ll regret that’ laugh – but didn’t respond to Aveline. Instead she nudged Anders further into the room until they reached Varric’s large table.

“I noticed you’re all looking at our sweet little toy like you’re aching to use him, but none of you actually do it. You’re all just too shy, so we’re going to fix that today.” She pressed down on Anders’ shoulders, and he offered no resistance whatsoever while going down on his knees. His face flamed red at the implications though; they were next to the table, all eyes on them. Isabela wasn’t really going to make him service her while they were all watching, was she? Surely even she had some shame!

But his cock twitched to life at the thought, and he had to suck in a deep breath to steady himself. Aroused and humiliated, a bittersweet combination he was starting to get used to by now. And the more he got used to it, the more he craved it.

So it came with a short flash of disappointment when Isabela leaned down to place a small peck on his lips before pushing his head down, practically shoving him under the table.

“Whoever wins gets Anders’ mouth until we have the next winner.” He got a friendly nudge of her foot to set him crawling beneath the table. “Start with kitten, sweet thing. Otherwise she’ll never get a turn.”

“I don’t know, I think I might win tonight,” the elven girl chirped from the other side, and Anders scooted towards her between the legs of his friends and the table. People were shifting nervously, supposedly at the new prize of their betting, but Anders noted nobody actually tried to say no.

Not even Aveline.

They started to chat normally, as if nothing was off. A bit nervous, but nothing hinting towards a man being under the table ready to lick anyone to an orgasm after a winning round.

Merrill was the one least capable of hiding how she felt about it, and she was squirming nervously when he reached her. Her hands came down to help him when he fiddled with the fastenings of her clothes, but she was more of a bother to him than helpful.

He would’ve brushed her hands away to do it himself, but it wasn’t his place. He wouldn’t speak out of turn when he was nothing but a toy.

She managed to get the straps free enough for him to flip her robes to the side and press his face between leather buckles securing her chainmail before. He was surprised at how easily she was accessible – but then again, a woman needed to pee sometimes too.

She gasped audibly when he dragged his tongue up the smooth skin of her lips. Unlike Isabela, she was hairless here, like elves tended to be. It was much gentler on his tongue, but it was also potentially much messier. He’d have to be careful not to let her robes stain.  
With his tongue out he pressed deeper until her thighs clenched around his head. He had enough space to push his tongue into her and lap at the sweetish wetness that already started to drip down.

Funnily enough, she tasted clean and herbal, unlike what he would’ve expected. She had come prepared, as if knowing someone would be pleasing her like this tonight. He wanted to tell her she hadn’t needed to, he would lick her clean if she came here dirty, but once again he was unwilling to speak out of turn. Besides, he’d be assuming she cleaned for _him_. Maybe she had different plans.

Her thighs quivered around his face while he licked at her dutifully, repeating the same motion for some time in the hope she’d give him more space to move. She had gone entirely silent, so when she squeaked at a remark from Isabela it startled Anders as well.

Luckily her surprise gave him the chance to nestle in deeper between her thighs, allowing him to close pursed lips around the little nub that would give her most pleasure. She moaned in surprise, her hips suddenly bucking forward and sparking a laughter over the table.

“Told you he was good,” he heard Isabela boast, and he increased his efforts at her compliment.

_He was good. He was a good toy with appreciated skills. They liked him._

One of Merrill’s hands came down to grab his hair, and he pressed the flat of his tongue forward her so she could ride up against it. Sweet and dripping, he wanted to lap it all up, but not while she was setting the pace. When she was setting the pace, he’d be a good toy and stay still for her to use.

Her thighs spread and her hips pressed forward. Another hand found its way into his hair, holding him close. Her hips were no longer just rocking against him, but bucking with need. Anders complied eagerly, licking and sucking and pressing his tongue deeply into her at times, finding the ministrations that got the best responses out of her and focusing on those.

She came with a shuddering moan, pulling his hair so hard he could not breathe passed her sex. He needn’t breathe. All he needed was to flick his tongue rapidly against her clit until she started to shake and the tension left her body.

“If you want to win any round tonight, you’ll have to keep holding your cards, Daisy.”

Merrill giggled breathlessly, and Anders’ hair was released. He slowly licked her clean, trying to minimise the damage to her robes of the sticky mess he’d made of her. His entire lower face was wet with saliva and her juices after that, but he didn’t bother to wipe that off. He had little doubt he’d be a bigger mess before the evening was over.

“-I believe I win this round.”

Anders tuned back into the conversation above table in time to hear the delicious roll of Fenris’ voice. He shuddered, quickly pulling away and shuffling around to get to Fenris.

The elf’s legs were already spread, and he was still talking to their friends while one hand deftly tugged the laces of his leggings free. Anders barely had to wait when he crawled over, settling immediately between the next pair of elven legs and leaning in close to breathe in the scent of his musk.

Nothing like the cleanliness of Merrill, but surprisingly clean nonetheless. Then again, it was probably easier to keep things smelling clean without hair here to hold the smells of sweat and urine. Instead it smelled of leather – sweaty leather, admittedly – and something that was just Fenris.

Anders nosed a line of lyrium just peeking out of Fenris’ leggings before starting to lave at him with his tongue, making him nice and wet for what was to come.

Unlike Merrill, Fenris seemed to have no trouble playing Wicked Grace with a mage pleasuring him under the table.

Anders took that as a challenge.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“How can you not see this injustice? How can you follow Hawke to the Gallows and see all those Tranquil and still say I’m wrong?”

Fenris huffed in frustration, suddenly stalking forward to push Anders backwards towards the curtained off space that made for his private quarters. “I tire of this discussion. I did not come to argue here today.”

“A convenient but childish response when running out of arguments,” Anders pointed out smugly, but when he met large green eyes he had to admit Fenris looked like he was speaking the truth. He looked like he had come for something entirely different.

And then Anders toppled back onto his cot, eyes widening as the almost wicked smirk appeared on Fenris’ face. With a move so easy it seemed like an afterthought, Fenris flipped Anders onto his stomach and leaned over him. His body was hot over Anders’ back, and his breath hitched in excitement.

“I do not care for your opinion. I came here for reprieve and I shall have it _before_ you can work me up in frustration further than your mere presence does. Now will you be a good toy for me?”

Anders whimpered, his entire demeanour changing as he submitted. Fenris’ heat over his back, the hot breath against his ear, the low rumble of his voice he could practically feel- it was too much, and Anders _needed_ this now.

“Y-yes. I’ll be a good toy now.”

“Good.”

Fenris’ hands worked his robes up immediately, his gauntlet’s snagging at the laces of his breeches. Anders trembled, trying to keep still so he would not get hurt, breath growing heavy with arousal at Fenris’ unapologetic hurry.

His breeches fell, crumpling over his feet but held up to his knees by his boots. His coat was pushed up to bunch around his chest and sharp gauntlets slid over his skin to pull his smalls down as well.

Unsurprisingly, Fenris’ had rather fine control over his gauntlets, with how he practically lived and slept with them on. He didn’t break skin, but Anders couldn’t help but worry about what would come next.

He needn’t have, because Fenris took a step back.

“Prepare yourself. I want you clean, slick and stretched enough that I will not harm you. Don’t be too loose; use magic if you must.”

With a breathless sound of confirmation Anders reached behind him, rubbing one finger down the cleft of his arse. Fenris stalked away to pace restless circles in the too tiny room, telling Anders wordlessly to _hurry up_. He was probably disappointed Anders wasn’t ready to take him straight away.

Definitely using magic then.

Anders cast three spells in quick succession – first one to clean, then one to relax his muscles and lastly one to produce a soothing slick that worked great as lubrication. It also burned like dry grass, but Anders just had to hope Fenris wasn’t planning on setting him on fire today.

It took very little effort to press two fingers inside of himself now, and with quick pumping he prepared himself to be nice and slick like Fenris demanded. His muscles stretched around his fingers without protest, and with a few scissoring motions he made sure he would not be torn by the elf’s girth.

He pulled his fingers out and meant to call Fenris back over, but he didn’t need to. The warrior was upon him instantly, grabbing his wrists and pinning his arms on the small of his back while bucking his hips to rub bare cock against slick arse.

_Arms restrained on the small of his back by hands clad in cold hard metal. Chest heaving against the unforgiving surface of a wooden desk, robes hiked up, arse ready on offer. For anyone to take, everyone who could hold him down. Just one armoured hand was all it took and then they could take, hurt, take without a care, without a-_

“Mage! Venhedis, _breathe_ mage!”

Anders sucked in a sharp breath, his lungs burning. He started panting and coughing immediately, fingers curling around the edge of the desk in desperation, clinging for dear life.

Fenris was no longer touching him. He was still behind him, but not touching, not threatening. Waiting for Anders to catch his breath.

Only when Anders stopped seeing stars and his white-knuckled grip on the desk relaxed a little, the elf spoke again, his voice a deep gentle rumble.

“No holding your hands down?”

A weary grin spread over his face, even if Fenris would not be able to see it. “Please… just not on my back, please.”

“Very well.”

Anders felt the elf pat his backside gently, like trying to calm a spooked animal. It was a fair enough description too, and Anders sucked in a deep breath before closing his eyes and releasing his grip on the desk altogether. He reached behind him, offering Fenris his hands.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be a good toy now.”

“Don’t apologise, mage. I have no desire to break you and I rather have a warning before it is too late.”

Anders felt warm, his stomach fluttering pleasantly at the words. _He was appreciated. He was treasured, because Fenris didn’t want him to break._

Fenris took his hands and slowly pinned them to the desk, on either side of him. This position did not trigger bad memories, the Templars had consistently pinned his wrists on his back. Anders had no problems with this position, so he made an encouraging sound, tilting his hips back for Fenris to take him.

He shuddered at the sudden deep purr coming from the elf.

“But you are an _excellent_ toy, mage. I am proud of you.”


	6. Chapter 6

He should not have been surprised that the next Wicked Grace night held no Wicked Grace for him either, but he was definitely surprised it started right when he entered.

“For the record,” Fenris’ voice rumbled, making Anders freeze on the spot, still in the door of Varric’s suite. “If we are to share the toy, I will not stand for anyone damaging him. I found pinning his hands on his back caused an unwanted  response, so I implore you not to do that.”

Anders wasn’t entirely sure what to think of his panic attack being described as an ‘unwanted response’, but Fenris _did_  put it in the light of things that would damage him.

In a way, it was almost like he was trying to spare Anders’ dignity… which was an utterly ridiculous thought, considering he was their literally toy to play with, but appreciated nonetheless. It made him feel warm and safe, knowing Fenris would warn their friends but not put his fears on display.

“Hands on his back, hmm?” Anders stiffened all over again when Isabela gave him a lecherous once-over. “And what were you doing to find out that titbit of information, sweet thing? Did you perhaps check if his arse is as nice as his mouth?”

“It is hairier, mostly.”

Anders’ jaw all but dropped at the elf’s disinterested tone, but Isabela positively cackled in delight. Hawke was now eyeing him with a look of doubt, but only Merrill managed to look confused about it. She was also the only one aside from Fenris not getting at least a little bit flustered.

“Anders? Hairy? That’s just horseshit, I bet he doesn’t have more than a little fuzz at most.”

“I said hairier, not that he grows a bear pelt.”

At this point Anders just covered his face with his hands, his cheeks burning. But he was not to be given reprieve, not with Isabela around. Oh, but she was having a field day.

“You can’t just drop hints and expect us not to check it out! Anders, bend over!”

He remained frozen, too shocked to respond. Was she serious? Did she want him to bend over so she could check how hairy his arse was with everyone looking? _Really_?

“What are you waiting for, mage? Bend over, she said.”

“Hands on your ankles, sweet thing.” Isabela took Fenris’ support as enough reason to see this through, and she slipped behind him to press forward on his shoulders. With a small noise of embarrassment – __humiliation__  – Anders went down as instructed, bending at the waist and reaching down to grab his ankles. Isabela’s slipped deft hands under his coat and around him to undo the laces of his pants and before he knew it they were down on his boots once more. His coat was bunched up and his smalls all but ripped down, and there he stood with his bare butt presented to the room, shaking in mortification.

“Creators, he really _is_ hairy! Is he alright?”

“This? This isn’t hairy!” Hawke’s large hand patting his backside as if to prove a point, but Anders couldn’t see a thing now. “Okay, so maybe it’s more than a little fuzz, but he’s got nothing on me. A nice measure of hair, no smooth baby cheeks like you elves.”

“It scratches,” Fenris pointed out tartly, and Anders clenched his eyes shut with a whimper.

“I could always shave him?” Isabela’s hand came back to lightly grab his balls, rolling them in her palm like idly. Playing with them as if she barely noticed what she was doing.

“He’s got a good manly arse,” Hawke protested feebly, but he didn’t sound convinced of his own argument. A pregnant silence followed his words and Anders shook, wobbling ever so slightly in his position while Isabela kept up her idle fondling.

“So, I shave him!” She suddenly crowed, signalling there was a silent conversation Anders just missed. His balls were released and a sharp little slap delivered to his butt. “Take off the boots and pants, sweet cheeks! And lay on the table, we don’t want you wobbly or fainting while I shave you. We’re going to make you all pretty for our surly elf.”


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn’t like Anders minded getting shaven. He trusted Isabela with a knife, even if it was on his privates, and it was rather arousing to be quite honest. The fact that he was laying on Varric’s table with only his undershirt left on to be meticulously groomed by Isabela while the rest watched curiously was… a bit more difficult. And equally arousing.

He was dripping more than just the shaving cream Isabela had lathered him up with by the time she was done, and it was good she had made him put his weight on the table with how his legs were shaking.

And then the trouble came when he wasn’t allowed to get dressed. ‘Shouldn’t chafe his skin with fabric after shaving’ Isabela had argued. She took all his clothes except for the undershirt he was wearing and his boots when she went to put her supplies away in her room, and he was left no escape.

Hawke carefully fondled the smooth skin of his butt curiously while she was away and then Fenris followed to check her hard work. In the end he was simply passed around the table, shuffling from one to the other so they could feel him up and give their approval.

Anders’ face was burning but his hard cock bobbed enthusiastically with each step he took, and every muttered praise at how soft his butt was or how smooth his balls made his chest swell with pride.

When Isabela returned the game of Wicked Grace finally started, and Hawke patted his lap for Anders to sit on.

Isabela argued that he couldn’t sit on Hawke’s lap because – once again – fabric would chafe. Hawke offered jokingly to pull off his pants.

Fifteen minutes of quarrelling later Anders found himself on Aveline’s lap, her armour freezing his arse and her disgruntled expression burning his face.

His only reassurance was that even Aveline wasn't above the occasional, albeit careful, grope, as if she wanted to reassure herself she really had a naked mage butt on her lap.

“We should give our Guard Captain a break,” Varric finally chuckled after they finished two hands. “Blondie, why don’t you go down and get us all a new round of drinks?”

Anders sat frozen, staring at Varric. He knew better than to remain still in shock when given instructions by now, but even so he couldn’t quite believe what he just heard. And Aveline seemed less inclined to just push him off to go follow his orders too, no doubt almost as shocked as he was.

Isabela whooped though, knocking her tankard on the table loudly. “New round! Mine’s been empty for too long!”

“That’s because you’re a drunkard who drinks too fast,” Varric pointed out, and they fell into their usual banter as if Anders wasn’t just sent out.

Sent out to go downstairs where all the other patrons were, without his clothes to cover him. His undershirt barely reached the underside of his buttocks, standing. He could only imagine what he’d be showing off when reaching to get something from the bar – or even just his erection poking out in general.

But he was ignored now, the lack of encouragement a clear statement to his friends’ expectations from him. They didn’t doubt he’d go, humiliating as it was.

Then again, he couldn’t be humiliated much further at this point.

He slowly stood from Aveline’s lap, shuffling to his boots and putting them on as carefully and slowly as possible, stretching the time until he really couldn’t put off leaving anymore. He felt his friends’ eyes on him, but when he glanced around they were all completely absorbed in their game, in each other.

Suppressing a whimper he pulled the front of his shirt down over his erection as far as he could before hesitantly making his way to the door, encouraged only by the fact that three of them brushed a hand over his smooth butt in the passing.

He could do this.

It was just the Hanged Man, and he’d be back to safety in no time.

_Back to safety in no time._

He kept repeating that to himself as he shuffled down the stairs, eyes firmly locked to the floor while his hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt to keep it down. The rowdy atmosphere grew more silent every step he took towards the bar, people apparently stunned in his wake.

He was sweating nervously by the time he reached Corff, but the upside of the stunned silence was that he didn’t have to speak very loud to order for a round of drinks for his friends.

He didn’t exactly dare to meet Corff’s eyes either, so he fidgeted even harder when his request was followed by a long silence.

“Alright. Give me a sec.”

That second turned out to be agonisingly long.

Anders wasn’t sure how he made it through the long wait of Corff pouring the drinks, the sound of rushing ale loud over the breathless silence in the bar. Everybody was watching him. Nobody was even commenting, just _watching._  And the worst part was when the tankards were placed in front of him and he had to release his shirt, reach up to grab them, shirt riding up high over his back.

Startled gasps around him, but still no comment.

Oddly enough not a touch either. He had expected someone would reach out and feel up his arse while he passed by, head ducked low while rushing back to the stairs and up.

Only on top of the stairs he felt a pat on his butt, but an encouraging one that was familiar to him already.

He glanced to the side to see Varric, grinning up at him proudly. The dwarf was balancing Bianca on one arm, cocked and ready in a clear threat to the people below.

Anders let out a sigh of relief, managing a small grateful sigh before heading back into their room.

They may play with him, but at least they also made sure to keep him safe.


	8. Chapter 8

Anders wasn’t entirely stable on his feet when Isabela led him into the room on the next game night.

It had been several days, so before he had gotten to enter Varric’s suite, Isabela had pulled him aside to shave him again.   
No stubble accepted, and all that. He’d admit he agreed, if his opinion was asked.

But having Isabela stare at his crotch and arse as intently as she did while shaving him, as well as the light caresses of the razor against his skin, made it rather difficult to… well… not get achingly hard before even getting into the room with their friends. Isabela made it worse by teasingly sucking just the tip of his cock for a moment before ushering him out in front of her to Varric’s suite.

He had gotten used to the new rule Isabela had set on him; even if he had thought it rather chilly at first. He was not to wear his pants or his smalls anymore, for easier access. It had been appreciated several times over the past few days - Fenris had paid him another visit in the clinic like before and Hawke had pulled him aside in an alleyway at some point.

Fenris had also gotten him in an alleyway that same day, but before Hawke. He had made Anders bend over and made a sound of disappointment at what he saw, letting Anders kneel instead to fuck his mouth.

Anders had felt terrible until Hawke had taken him later, but he still hadn’t figured out what put Fenris off that time. Perhaps the elf didn’t like him shaven after all, or he was not fond of the light stubble that had started to grow at that point.

He hoped he could make it better tonight.

Surprisingly it was Sebastian who would foil his plans for that, this time.

“Anders. Come over here, ah’m goin’ to claim ye for the ev’ning.”

Anders blinked in surprise and cast a quick look around the room to make sure nobody would protest before making his way around the table to the Chantry brother. Most of their friends seemed to be amused rather than upset about the claim, so he figured it was alright.

Sebastian patted his lap and Anders carefully took a seat, giving the man a question look. The back of his head was cupped in one hand and lead down to rest against Sebastian’s hair. His arm got draped over the archer’s shoulders and his legs shifted a little until the man was apparently comfortable. Then he got enveloped in a tight hug and he could hear the content snigger under Sebastian’s breath.

Anders was still blinking, utterly baffled by this new situation, but Sebastian seemed quite content this way.

Only when the conversation hesitantly started up around them Anders realised he was simply being employed as a giant teddy bear today.

“You look comfy,” Isabela crooned, and Sebastian made a calm, affirmative noise. As if nothing was wrong.

“In fact, Ah am, yes. Fer how bony he is, he’s really rather cuddleable.”

“So you’re just planning to cuddle, hm? I wonder how long that’ll last.” Isabela was waggling her eyebrows at Anders and he flushed, but he remained silent in his role.

“Ye’ve been using him plenty already,” Sebastian chastised mildly, “he deserves an evening of rest. Can’t have him jump from crotch to crotch like a common whore every night.”

“He’s not a common whore!” Isabela actually sounded offended. A funny thing, considering she had an open tab at the Blooming Rose. “Anders is our toy, and ours alone. He’s also the best toy ever, there’s nothing common about him. You’re the best toy, aren’t you, sweet thing?”

Anders quickly nodded, still blushing, but quietly squirming as he preened under the compliments. Sebastian gave him a few appreciative pats on his thigh, and Anders just wanted to beam proudly, show them how good he was.

He was doing everything he could do be good and it was appreciated, and it was the best feeling he could imagine.

“He could use a few more hmm… adaptations, for optimal use.”

Anders froze at Fenris’ voice, suddenly afraid. Suddenly remembering the one dismissal. Fenris really did have a problem with him. ‘ _Please don’t let him dismiss me-’_

“What are you proposing?”

Isabela didn’t seem worried like Anders, and Sebastian took to giving Anders gentle backrubs to calm him down again. As much as he was loving it, it didn’t help him stop worrying.

“I am proposing for him to be more ready to please than just not wearing underclothes.” Fenris gestured idly, his eyes not even dwelling to Anders as he spoke to Isabela. “It is of no use to be able to access his arse at all times if we still need to prepare him before use.”

“We could plug him up so he stays nice and stretched?”

Anders shuddered in excitement at Hawke’s proposal, but the tension slowly seeped out of him now. He recognised Fenris’ dismissal now. Just like his impatience when he came down to the clinic;  he could not prepare Anders to fuck him without taking off his gauntlets, but he was in a hurry to stick his cock up Anders’ arse. It was understandable, actually.

“I like this idea,” Isabela crooned, looking Anders up and down with a pleased grin. “You could use a spell to make sure you can _stay_  plugged up at all times unless you’re being used, can’t you Anders?”

He nodded again, before carefully scraping his throat to answer properly. “I can, yes.”

“Plugged up and slick?” Fenris added, his tone hopeful.

“Plugged, slick and hairless, if you so wish,” he agreed, face burning.

Isabela clapped her hands and Merrill gave a soft squeal in an echo of her excitement. Hawke and Fenris were grinning with definite approval and Anders had to hide his face against Sebastian’s hair to not get overwhelmed by his feelings.

These spells would be simple enough to him. As a healer he knew all the ins and outs of his own body, and he knew perfectly how to manipulate it to their wishes. The only thing he didn’t have-

“I’ll arrange for a nice plug for you when we leave for the Wounded Coast tomorrow,” Hawke promised. “Make sure you come slick and stretched, Anders.”

“Perhaps we should make sure we fill him with some extra before leaving, just in case,” Fenris snickered, and Anders’ stomach fluttered.

The gentle patting of his back continued, dropped slowly to his thigh. He was comfortable in Sebastian’s lap and happy with all the positive attention he was getting.

He rested his head on top of Sebastian’s properly with a content sigh, smiling to himself.

_Now he was looking forward to going to the Wounded Coast tomorrow._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer installment than usual, because the men all had to show they were the alpha male. All of them. Bunch of possessive little shits.

Good toy he was, he did indeed show up at Hawke’s estate all ready in the morning.

Nobody else had arrived yet, but Hawke was more than excited to show him the plug he had procured anyway. A surprisingly classy looking thing, considering its purpose.

It was of the smoothest metal, shining in the sunlight streaming in from the high windows. A thick knob with elegant curves and a simple, wide base. Simple, but pretty, and it made Anders squirm slightly in excitement.

“So you’re stretched and slick like we asked?”

Anders nodded quickly and didn’t wait for more prompting to bend over, hiking his long coat up to expose his arse. He had done exactly what was promised, although he’d have to admit it felt rather odd to be so slick in his hole.

“Do you need to slick up every time?” Hawke traced his thumb over the rim of Anders’ hole curiously, dragging some of the clear substance over his skin. “Or will you uhm… lubricate by yourself?”

“It’s… very similar to how a vagina works,” Anders answered, ignoring how his face was already burning again. “It’ll grow slick with arousal. So you don’t have to worry about me being too dry at all.”

Hawke chuckled, clearly amused by the response, pressing his thumb in to test his hole. Anders’ breath hitched at the feeling and he leaned back a little to press closer, wobbling slightly because he had nothing to balance against.

The wobble was punished immediately by the thumb popping out, a pat to his backside following when he made a small dejected sound at the loss.

“Go to the wall, brace your hands on a bench. I’m going to fill you up before plugging you.”

Anders scrambled to obey. If he hadn’t been hard yet, he was now, his cock heavy between his legs when he leaned over to brace on a bench like instructed. His thighs spread to allow Hawke easy access, and the man helped lowering him to the perfect height with a few directing pats to his thighs and backside.

Without more preamble, Hawke pushed inside, making Anders gasp in delight.

He hadn’t realised Hawke had been hard enough to fuck him straight away. He hadn’t realised Hawke had been waiting with his breeches unlaced - or prepared to whip out his cock to plunge straight in anyway.

Anders moaned loudly and leaned back into the thick length spearing his arse, and Hawke laughed breathlessly at his reaction. He set a quick pace immediately, clearly worked up already, and all Anders could do was wonder how long Hawke had been waiting for him to arrive. He’d have to leave earlier next time, make sure their leader wouldn’t have to wait so long for his toy. The thought of Hawke having to make do with his hand because his toy was late made him whimper regretfully.

Next time, he’d be a better toy.

At least Hawke did not seem to be about to complain, grunting as he took Anders hard and fast. His rhythm faltered only for a moment at the sound of a gauntlet knocking on the door, but they both recognised the sound of Fenris’ light rap. Hawke grunted out something in the lines of a ‘come in’, not bothering to stop, and Anders bit down on a wail of arousal and humiliation.

For Fenris to be invited in like that, for the elf to just enter silently while Hawke took his due - it made Anders feel all the more like a toy to be used, all the less like a person. His cock was leaking now, leaving streaks of fluid on the front of his thighs to match the slick Hawke had drawn from his arsehole by now.

As excited as Hawke had been, it didn’t take him long after the quiet click of Fenris closing the door again. With a low grunt he sped up and seconds later he tensed, spilling himself inside Anders’ arse. Anders moaned needily, rocking back against Hawke for all the more sensation, but it wasn’t to last now. Hawke slowly drew back, and Anders made a mournful sound of loss when he slipped out.

Rather than getting up to get himself presentable again though, he had a good alternative to hopefully give him more. He spread his legs a little wider, shuffling his boots over the floor to sink deeper. After making sure he was stable again he reached behind himself and spread his arse cheeks, hoping it would invite Fenris to take his turn.

Anders was about to beg for it - hesitant only because it was not his place to beg, just to be used when desired - when he felt the sharp tips of the elf’s gauntlets skimming over his skin.

His breath hitched in excitement, hips tilting just that little further, hands spreading himself just that little wider. Fenris made a sound of approval low in his throat and Anders’ hands were brushed aside, replaced by the warrior’s hands. The gauntlets pricked sharply into his skin but Anders didn’t mind. He cherished every touch, trying to to wiggle in excitement now.

“Hold yourself steady,” Fenris ordered, his crotch rubbing up against Anders’ arse. Anders rolled his hips back, grinding up against Fenris’ cock to get him hard enough as soon as possible. It didn’t take long before he was rewarded with the elf’s long member sliding into him, pressing deep and jutting straight into his prostate.

He gasped and trembled, fingers curling on the bench. Fenris gave him just a moment more to stabilise himself before he started up a fast and punishing pace, practically fucking Anders down into the bench when he was taken unprepared.

Anders couldn’t hear over his own moans and Fenris’ grunts. Hawke could be doing anything behind them  - probably _was_  doing anything behind them. So far nobody had taken the use of their toy as anything embarrassing, not since Isabela had him lick them all to an orgasm on the first card night he’d gotten to play their prize.

Fenris was fucking him hard and Hawke may as well have gotten himself a book to read while he waited. Not to mention Varric was also to arrive any moment in order for them to leave.

Anders cried out at a particularly deep thrust and the palm of Fenris’ hand came up to press down on his back, forcing him to hollow it further, tilt his arse further up. If possible, the pace sped up even more, and too soon Fenris spilled as well, filling Anders with more warm seed.

Anders was panting, trying hard not to collapse on the spot.

 _It wasn’t enough_.

Fenris pulled out and he whined plaintively, sad for the loss, fearing this was going to be it. Hawke would press a cold plug into him to keep him blissfully full with their seed, but he wouldn’t be getting anymore cock for now. Maybe not for the rest of the day, even.

New hands gripping his arse took him by surprise.

He gasped, moaning and whimpering needily while he tried to glance over his shoulder. His attempt was thwarted by the firm hands forced him even lower, spreading his legs even wider. He made a pained sound when they spread too wide, and the hands stopped forcing him down, allowing him to kneel instead.

“I hope you didn’t think I was going to skip here,” an amused voice rumbled in his ear, and Anders gratefully moaned when Varric’s thick cock pushed in with one sharp thrust.

“If Hawke and Broody get to go on this trip all relaxed, I want in too,” he grunted, picking up the same fast pace as Hawke and Fenris’ had set. No patience for drawing it out when they still had to leave for the Wounded Coast.

Which was entirely fair.

Anders moaned hungrily for the thicker cock now in him. Varric wasn’t long, but very sturdy, and it stretched beyond his preparation, even beyond the preparation of being fucked by Hawke and Fenris first. The maddening bit was how short Varric was, and apparently his thrusts did not find his prostate quite as effectively as Fenris’ did.

He was whimpering and squirming soon enough, but Varric just laughed while he took him, sounding almost a bit sadistic.

It was the cruellest thing, being fucked hard like he wanted but it was _just_  not enough. _Just_ too little to come from it himself. And Anders feared he wouldn’t be given the luxury to cum after Varric was done. He rarely got to.

Varric took longer than Hawke and Fenris had needed - although it may just be Anders’ imagination, because he was aching for just a touch deeper, just a little more - and eventually he could hear some impatient words from Fenris over his own panting and moaning. He was too far out of it to understand the answer Varric gave the elf, shaking and gasping for every breath while he was pounded into.

It felt like an eternity later before Varric stilled, grunting while he finally added his load deep inside Anders’ arse. He pulled out and before Anders could even react to the loss, a cold object was pressed into him.

He gave a startled yelp, hips hitching forward, but the plug was already inside and quickly warming up. All he could do was whimper with how hard he was and the treat of getting fucked was over.

“Come on, we can’t leave him like this,” he finally registered from Varric’s conversation with the other two.

It was Fenris’ hands wrapping around his hips and heaving him back up onto his feet. His grip on the bench tightened and he tried to make his legs hold his weight, but he wobbled dangerously with his arse back up in the air. Fenris kept him upright until he found his balance, and then he was released once more.

Anders was unsure what they were planning for him now.

What he hadn’t expected was Varric’s hand wrapping around his cock, squeezing it teasingly a few times to make him cry and sob in desperation. The dwarf started to stroke him with a fast pace matching how he was fucked, and Anders couldn’t help but shuffle back a little, his feet moving back to give Varric more space between his legs. His eyes blinked open for a moment, watching the dwarf’s hand pumping him, and for a moment he felt like he was being milked.

The toy being milked before he would be too full.

“Come on,” Fenris voice, unexpectedly close to his ear. “Cum. Be a good toy, we do not have all day.”

Anders finished with a shout and his legs crumpled beneath him. Fenris caught him around the waist while Varric laughed, stroking him to completion before releasing him and giving a wet pat on his buttocks.

“There we go Blondie, that should take care of the pressure. Take a second to catch your breath and we leave, alright?”

Anders nodded breathlessly, glancing up to give Fenris a grateful smile. To his surprise the elf blushed and pointedly looked away, but Anders was content.

More than content, and sated for once.


	10. Chapter 10

It took Anders a while to get used to the plug, and a few embarrassing accidents before he got the hang of keeping it in and be ready constantly, but he managed in under a week. Luckily his friends were very gentle and forgiving whenever he didn’t quite manage to do what they wanted, rewarding him for success but not punishing him for failure.

Some of his older, more caring patients told him proudly how he seemed to be glowing these days, looking so much better than before. He blushed and meant to argue, but they were right. He _felt_  a lot better than before.

He took better care of his eating habits to keep track of his digestion, and he slept much better at night with thoughts full of being a good toy rather than his and Justice’ anger.

Justice was still angry about the situation with Meredith and the mages, yes, but he was placated by their game surprisingly well. ‘Mages are meant to serve man’... Anders was making himself an excellent example on how it could be without the imprisonment, and Justice liked that.

Anders was aware Justice would realise they weren’t getting all that much done sooner or later, but for now he refused to worry.

For now he took his chance to be happy.

And his friends tried to take him about everywhere they went now, so that certainly helped too.

He refused a few times when they tried to drag him from the clinic for no good reason, offering them a quick service in the back instead so he could return to his patients quickly. Only once when he refused someone insisted, and that was Varric dragging him to the Hanged Man and ordering him to sleep before he would keel over.

Despite his status as their toy, they respected him as a person. The awkwardness in their normal conversations was all but gone as well.

Hence why he didn’t hold back at all from laughing while quickly healing Fenris mid-battle from a very ill aimed ice spell of their opponent.

Close as he was to the mage, he locked their enemy in a crushing prison to make sure Fenris could take his revenge for that particular blow to his pride.

“Even Tal-Vashoth are more honourable than going for the balls,” he chuckled, before turning to focus a healing spell on Hawke when the man got nabbed by a rogue.

He didn’t think any more of it until they settled at the fire of their camp in a shallow cave against the side of Sundermount hours later.

“Come here mage.”

Anders felt a shudder run down his spine at the dark tone of Fenris’ voice. He sounded irritated, but they hadn’t spoken throughout setting up camp.

When he turned around, he found Fenris wriggling out of his leggings with a disgusted look on his face, and as he rushed over it finally clicked.

Fenris gave him a pointed look while he wrung out the crotch of his leggings, water splattering down onto the hard soil.

“You owe me, mage.”

“I healed the frostbite immediately,” Anders argued quickly, settling down on his knees in front of Fenris anyway.

“And yet you left my leggings soaked with ice cold water. I might as well have frostbite all over again.” One hand shot out and Anders’ breath hitched, his eyes following the flow of the lyrium lines on naked skin. Beautiful, striking like a snake.

Fingers tangled into his hair and he was dragged down, face pressed into Fenris’ crotch. The elf was entirely flaccid and his skin was freezing, so Anders did not waste time opening his mouth and sucking his cock in.

“You will stay like that until I no longer feel cold. And you will not use magic, I have seen more than enough of that today. Understood, mage?”

Anders made a muffled sound of affirmation, wriggling on the spot to get comfortable without pulling back. He figured he’d be here for a while.

“You know you could just sit closer to the fire, right?” Hawke was chuckling across the fire, but Anders studiously ignored him in order to suckle Fenris’ cold dick. Of course Fenris could sit closer by the fire, but where was the fun in that?

Fenris echoed Anders’ thoughts with a dark chuckle of his own. “And waste this perfect opportunity to use our toy as a cockwarmer? No, I intend to take my pleasure tonight. If you wish to use the toy as well, you will have to settle for the backside.”

A surprised moan escaped Anders’ throat at the words, and he was quick to wriggle some more to get his knees up under himself, offering his arse to Hawke immediately. He had not expected them to want to use him at the same time, but the thought was arousing and gratifying, so he hoped-

“Maybe later,” Hawke interrupted his thoughts with a quiet laugh. “I want to clean my sword first... although he does make a very enticing sight this way. Anders, take off your coat and let me enjoy the view.”

Anders made an affirmative noise into Fenris’ crotch and struggled to work his coat off his shoulders. Fenris huffed at the struggling and reached over to help, flinging the coat aside once he got it off his toy. Anders settled again with a content noise, sinking down with his knees beneath him spread as wide as they would comfortably go. A cold shudder ran up his spine at the initial chill of being uncovered, but they were close to the fire and he could feel the heat of it on his skin already.

Long fingers carded through his hair absently, the tie holding his hair back tugged out carefully. He hummed in pleasure at the attention, holding back from sucking too hard to please Fenris further. He kept it to a calm suckling, just to warm Fenris’ in his mouth, not to get him off quick. He had little doubt Fenris would be fucking his mouth before they retired to bed, but until then he could enjoy this calm.

“Good toy,” Fenris muttered, fingers petting. “Tap my leg if you need a break and I will not push you down, understood?”

Anders made another grateful noise to show he understood, comfortable where he was. Fenris’ hands left his hair and he felt the elf reach over for something Anders couldn’t see. Cold steel suddenly rested on his back and Anders jumped slightly in surprise, letting himself be soothed down again by Fenris hushing him. Only when a rhythmic movement started on top of him, he realised Fenris was following Hawke’s example and cleaning his sword.

Anders whimpered quietly in arousal, squirming but trying to hold still while he was being used not only as a cockwarmer, but also as a table to clean a sword on.

He _hoped_  Hawke would still be using his arse tonight, because he was pretty sure he’d go mad if he would go to bed untouched.


	11. Chapter 11

Anders knew he was in trouble when Aveline stormed in angrily at the same time Isabela teased him over the edge with her fingers in his arse.

She had kept him on that edge for almost an hour though, so even Aveline’s wrath couldn’t stop the blinding orgasm washing through him and leaving him to crumple to the floor, arms and legs like jelly after having been forced to support him on all fours for that long.

“Good. Looks like you were about done with him.”

Aveline stomped over and promptly sat on the cot next to Isabela, patting her lap commandingly. Anders was barely able to look straight yet, so he didn’t quite manage to figure out what he was supposed to be doing. Aveline being so angry she wanted him to sit on her lap seemed... odd.

“And who pissed in your ale then, big girl?” Isabela had a foot on Anders’ back before he could attempt to get up and do... whatever it was that Aveline wanted from him. He was her toy too, so he’d readily do as she asked, but clearly Isabela had other plans.

Anders would normally resist Isabela at this point, because she had her turn - quite a few times in a row even - but he rather needed to catch his breath first.

“It’s got nothing to do with you, _whore_.”

“It is if you’re going to break our toy over it. You can use him as you like, but I won’t let you harm him.”

Aveline clearly faltered for a moment at being reprimanded by Isabela like that, although Anders could not see either of their faces from his position. She sounded a lot more restrained when she spoke again.

“I will not harm him. Today was especially frustrating with Templars in my office, but I can’t do a thing about it. I will spank Anders for each time I wanted to punch someone today, but I know not to take it too far.”

“Oh, that I want to see!”

Isabela’s foot was off his back again and Anders tensed, find his arse clench in anticipation. His cock might’ve twitched if he didn’t just literally finish, although he was dreading what was to come as well.

Aveline was not the type to take pity on a man. Getting spanked by her would be... bracing.

_He didn’t know how fast to get up and lay himself over her lap_.

“There, that’s a good toy. Now I’ll be happy to hear you apologise in name of every bastard who pissed me off today, if you feel the need. You can beg if you like, but when you say ‘stop’, I’ll stop. I don’t expect to hear it before you reach your limit, am I clear?”

“Y-yes,” he whispered hoarsely, toes digging into the straw on the clinic floor as his arse tensed up even further. He was afraid and extremely aroused by this whole thing, but he doubted that was currently Aveline’s intention.

Maybe he’d get lucky and Isabela would want another ride after watching this.

He gasped at the first blow landing on his arse, and immediately stopped that train of thought.

There was no way he would endure a spanking with the strength Aveline put into her blows and manage to be hard by the end.

He clenched his eyes shut, dropping his head low as the blows started to rain down on his backside. She took no time to warm him up or coddle him, just setting a steady pace of sharp slaps with the flat of her hand. Soon enough every blow felt like he was getting burned, and he had to bite his lip not to whimper.

She truly had no mercy. But neither was he expecting her to.

It was impossible to stay quiet on the long run. Soon every blow forced a gasp or a whimper out of him, and only a little later every new hit became a soft cry. Aveline grunted in acknowledgement of his, but she kept going steadily. Not harder nor faster, just the steady blow of a trained hand.

“That must hurt,” Isabela whistled after a blow that came down just a little harder, making him cry quietly. “Your arse is all red, sweet thing. I bet you won’t be sitting tonight.”

“That wasn’t the intention,” Aveline grunted in agreement, and Anders let out a sob.

The moment the first got out, he broke down. His fingers clenched on her greaves while he sobbed desperately, each hit burning and _arousing_  and hurting and it felt awful and so good all at once. He released it all but it hurt so much and _please stop-_

He didn’t beg yet. He knew he could handle more. But it hurt, it hurt so bad, it burned.

“He’s starting to bruise,” Isabela pointed out, and suddenly the spanking stopped. The sobbing didn’t stop, not even when a soft hand started to gently pet his back between his tense shoulder blades. He sobbed wordlessly for mercy, although Aveline had already stopped and he wasn’t sure what he was crying for anymore.

Not the pain in his arse.

Maybe he was begging for the forgiveness of the people who angered her. Really though, he would be the last to forgive a Templar anything.

“It’s alright, sweet thing. You’ve done well.”

“I’m done, Anders,” Aveline said gently, her voice still firm because it always was. “Thank you. You’ve been a very good toy for me.”

He whimpered out a thank you for her, and then he was pushed up by her knee and hefted upright to kneel next to her feet. Isabela moved her hand from petting his back to his hair, shushing him with a proud grin on her lips.

“Was it too much for you, Anders?” Aveline was giving him a sharp look, and he _knew_  lying would not be appreciated. He wasn’t sure if lying would be safe, right now.

“N-no, it wasn’t... I’m sorry...” He sniffled, trying to wipe the tears off his face, but Aveline was there first to rub her thumbs over his wet cheeks.

“I believe our toy needed a little relief as well,” Isabela crooned, leaning over to peck his forehead. “You should do this more often, big girl. It might keep you both nice and calm. Maybe the raiders on the coast will not suffer quite such a horrid death by your sword if you do.”

“Shut up, whore,” Aveline said fondly, before leaning over as well to peck Anders’ forehead. “Anders, I’d like it if you didn’t heal that, but if it’s necessary, I won’t hold it against you if you do. If you leave it, I’ll make sure the men go easy on you tonight and not pound into you too hard.”

“And I’ll milk your balls entirely dry with just my fingers in your arse too,” Isabela promised, smiling almost innocently.

Anders had never been so eager to _not_  heal his own pain.


	12. Chapter 12

“I appreciate the food Varric, but is that all I’m here for? Food and Grey Warden stories?” Anders quirked an eyebrow at the dwarf before quickly shovelling a few spoonfuls of the Hanged Man’s mystery stew into his mouth.

Predictably, Varric laughed. “Blondie, what kind of cruel man do you take me for? You don’t have to earn your food by being a good toy for me; those are two entirely different things!”

“You already gave me the food anyway, I wouldn’t be earning much anymore.” Anders grinned and lifted the bowl to drink down the last bits, putting it back down with a thunk and a satisfied sigh.

“I don’t want you to feel obliged.”

“I always feel obliged, and I love it.”

“I don’t want to make Bianca jealous, Blondie.”

“I can take you both.”

Anders smirked when that clearly piqued Varric’s interest, the dwarf giving him a calculating look. He licked his lips and slipped off his chair to kneel by Varric’s feet, leaning over his lap to carefully pet the crossbow where it stood leaning against the dwarf’s chair on his other side.

“Blondie, are you _serious_?”

Anders laughed pulling his hand back from Bianca to stroke Varric’s thigh instead - although he quickly changed course, reaching up to pet the luxurious chest hair he now had free access too. “Only if you’re interested, of course.”

“Maker’s tits, of course I’m interested! Get up and bend over the table, we gotta stretch you some more first.”

Anders scrambled up to obey, bumping his leg against Varric’s chair in his hurry to bend over the table directly within the dwarf’s reach. Varric made a sound of appreciation, patted his leg to make sure he was alright and proceeded to hike up his robes.

“Ah, still just as pretty as how we left you.” Varric slapped Anders’ smooth butt once, playfully, before leaning in and giving the hit spot a kiss. He took the toy lodged in Anders’ arse to carefully pull it out, drawing a deep moan from the mage with it.

“So slick already. Do you know what I’ll be doing to you, Blondie?”

Anders shook his head breathlessly, his feet spreading further on the floor to lower his arse more for Varric. Two thick fingers pressed into him with ease, pumping and twisting for a moment before a third one was added almost immediately.

“I’m going to let you ride Bianca while I choke you on my cock, is what. How do you like that idea?”

A louder moan slipped this time, and Anders’ cock twitched in arousal at the thought. He wasn’t sure what part of the crossbow he’d be riding, but Varric undoubtedly had something in mind. Something wide, or he wouldn’t be preparing Anders further than he always was.

The grip, perhaps? Varric recently put a new grip on his crossbow, a wide, smoothed out thing that had made Isabela joke relentlessly.

Nobody had thought to accuse him of putting that grip on with Anders’ arse in mind, but now all of a sudden, Anders had to wonder.

He could only wonder for a moment, because Varric pushed a fourth finger in, and the stretch was definitely bigger than the usual Anders got now. He moaned and whimpered, his hips rocking back for more and movements. Varric seemed more than happy to watch him fuck himself on his fingers, allowing Anders to set the pace that was most comfortable to him.

Discomfort soon made way for pleasure again and his next moan was not tinged with pain, immediately prompting Varric to pull his fingers out.

“There you go Blondie, that’s ready enough. Now come sit here-” He stood and pulled Anders off the table, his other hand pulling Bianca from her spot to set her upside down in front of the table. Anders was manoeuvred to straddle the weapon and Varric pulled himself onto the edge of the table, where his hips would be higher than when he stood.

The grip it was indeed.

Anders’ legs were trembling while he slowly lowered himself until the thick grip pressed up against his arsehole.

“You can do it Blondie, be a good toy for daddy.”

His eyes flashed up to see Varric’s grin, and for a moment he returned it with his own. He was older than the dwarf, but he’d heard him refer to himself as ‘daddy’ to Bianca often enough to know what he was talking about. He was being a good toy for both Varric and Bianca now.

Anders doubted the crossbow cared much, but it made Varric happy. Plus, the size of that grip was nothing if not inspirational.

He sunk down slowly, letting the grip penetrate him inch by slow inch. He groaned and whimpered, feeling himself be filled so full, so much fuller than before.

It made him both wilt and desire more.

Varric was there to provide - even if Anders was supposedly the one providing.

His hair was grabbed by the ponytail, pulling him forward until Varric’s thick cock bumped against his face. Anders quickly licked it, legs trembling heavily beneath him as he paused his descent for the sake of making Varric’s cock nice and wet.

When he finished the task he received a push on one shoulder to urge him down further, before Varric grabbed the base of his cock to line it up with Anders’ mouth.

“Knock on the table if you need air. I’m going to choke you on my cock nice and hard, so make sure I don’t make you pass out.”

Anders gave a needy whimper in response, curling his hands in fists on the table on either side of Varric’s hips, ready to knock if necessary. With that the thick cock was thrust in past his lips and he practically fell down the last few inches down onto Bianca’s grip.

“Fuck, Blondie...”

Anders could barely breathe, but Varric left him just that little bit of space to wheeze for air, trying to adapt to the thick, long grip in his arse as well as struggling to suppress his gag reflex. He rarely had trouble with his gag reflex, but then he didn’t normally sit down with something the size of Bianca’s grip up his arse either.

When he had himself back under control, he received a small pat on the back of his head and Varric’s cock drawing back half an inch, just enough to let him take a deep breath in preparation. Just a moment, and then he was pulled in close, Varric’s cock jutting forward and down his throat. Anders choked before managing to relax his throat, swallowing frantically around the thick cock pressing deeper. Varric grunted above him, holding him down for a long few seconds before abruptly starting to fuck his throat.

Anders groaned hoarsely when he could, the fucking of his throat making him hurt in a way that made his cock harden again. His hips started to move slightly with the dwarf’s rhythm, rocking with sharp little movements to ride Bianca’s grip.

He felt overly full on both sides and secretly he hoped they would get walked in on like this.

He groaned a little louder around Varric’s cock at the thought, his movements quickly turning frantic. Varric’s moans were full of appreciation, blunt fingers holding his hair tightly.

“Touch yourself, Blondie. I want you coming when I do.”

Anders’ eyes rolled back, one hand scrambling to grab his dick where it was tenting the front of his robes. He was slick with precum already, almost fully hard just from being speared between Varric and Bianca.

“C’mon Blondie-”

Varric sounded more urgent now, his thrusts harder and deeper until Anders was choking again, needy for air but unwilling to stop Varric. He nearly gagged properly a few times until Varric pressed in as deep as he could, Anders’ nose deeply buried in coarse pubic hair when the dwarf grunted and released down his throat.

With only a few fast strokes Anders followed right over the edge, seeing stars behind his eyelids while his lungs burned, his arse so overstuffed it was almost numb.

“Now that’s a sight to walk in on.”

Anders slumped backwards, wheezing for air as soon as Varric’s slick cock slid from his mouth. A string of saliva - or seed, perhaps - remained connecting his bottom lip with Varric’s cock, and even though his chest was heaving he felt compelled to keep it whole rather than looking around at Hawke.

“If you want a turn, you should really let him catch his breath first,” Varric chuckled, patting Anders’ hair. He shifted on the table carelessly and the thin line of saliva broke. Anders pouted and Varric tucked himself back in his pants.

“I see he doesn’t want to wait,” Hawke laughed, and Anders flushed immediately when he realised his pout was taken the wrong way.

Well.

Not that he minded.

He shifted around on top of Bianca to turn towards Hawke, obediently opening his mouth in invitation, still panting hard.

“Now _that’s_  a good toy.”


	13. Chapter 13

There was one place Anders really hated going to, although he probably shouldn’t with this new arrangement between him and his friends.

And it was not the Bone Pit.

He groaned when Hawke headed straight for the door of the Blooming Rose, ignoring the looks he was given by Fenris and Isabela. No doubt they remembered why he hated going here.

But Hawke never went anywhere without Anders anymore these days, so if he had business chatting up whores to find some Templar recruit again or whatever splendid excuse he had, Anders was dragged along.

He was suddenly very aware of his naked legs under his coat, and the toy in his arse. Normally when he became aware of it all of a sudden it was a good feeling.... now it was dread.

And true enough, he was proven right to fear the moment they entered. A drunk patron whistled at him, making him flush and scoot a little closer to Hawke, nearly stepping on his heels in his need to stay close.

“Conclude your business here quickly, Hawke,” Fenris growled, catching up with the man too. “I do not like this place, nor its patrons.”

“No, let’s not hurry. Let’s ask if we can rent one of the dungeons for our use!”

Anders flashed Isabela a startled look, but she was grinning at him lasciviously. Anders really didn’t like the sound of ‘dungeon’, but with the look on Isabela’s face and their location, he figured it wasn’t your regular sort of dungeon. Or he hoped so, anyway.

“Who are we planning to lock up.” Hawke seemed as confused as Anders felt, but Isabela quickly draped herself over Anders’ shoulder, reaching down to slide one hand under his robes and squeeze a naked buttock.

“I wasn’t thinking about locking someone up, per se... but they have some very nice swings here we could hang our toy in for a novel experience during the fucking. And all sort of equipment and toys we could try out too!”

Anders laughed nervously, finally catching on to what Isabela meant. A place of sexual debauchery rather than somewhere you locked your prisoners. In a way, he could understand how it would’ve gotten that name, considering the kinky things he knew some people to be into.

He could only hope none of his friends would take an interest in a whip, or manacles, or worse.

The idea made him nervous, but he was soothed by the thought of how forthcoming they had always been. He was pretty sure they wouldn’t do something if he said no.

Hawke looked very interested, and even Fenris seemed intrigued by the idea. Anders was nervous, but the curious looks on their faces sparked the interest in him too.

He liked nothing better than satisfying them.

“Please, let’s start by doing whatever Hawke needed to do,” he muttered, despite himself. He nudged Hawke forward and ignored the whine it earned him, following shortly behind him to the Madame.

He didn’t really listen to whatever Hawke had to discuss with her, more focused on trying to be as small and unnoticeable as possible behind Hawke’s wide shoulders and Isabela’s voluminous bust. And he may have gotten away with it it too, if Fenris wasn’t also there and drawing attention with his glares right to whatever he must be protecting with that look: namely Anders. He could feel the eyes on him, hear the hushed whispers where there should be people loudly conversing. Nobody would whisper in the Rose unless it was gossip.

He grew more uncomfortable by the minute, until finally Hawke turned back and grinned widely, jangling a set of keys in front of Anders.

“Let’s go play, shall we?”

Anders’ eyes flashed up to offer a grateful look, and a second later he was hurrying off towards the back where Hawke pointed him. He couldn’t get out from under these people’s gazes soon enough.

Only getting out from under their gazes also meant he was out of view of the ones who had seen Fenris’ death glare.

The moment he took two steps into the hallways leading to the rooms, he found himself stopped by a large meaty hand on his arm.

“You there, pretty. I’m taking you, what’s your price.”

“I’m not for sale here,” he sputtered indignantly, immediately grabbing the hand to pry it off. Instead, it tightened.

“What, so you’re for free then? You hear that, men? It’s our lucky day!”

Anders blanched, looking around to see the men who were jeering in response.

Of course they were Templars. Why wouldn’t they be Templars?

“Sorry, lad, but this man is already taken~” Isabela cut in smoothly, and suddenly the hand was gone from Anders’ arm. The guy looked pained and grabbed for his own wrist, and Anders could only wonder what Isabela had done to make someone clearly stronger than her release him so easily.

“What, by you? You can join in, gives us a chance to teach lil’ Jack there how to navigate boobs while we’re at it.”

“No, you don’t understand,” she countered sweetly, but before she got the chance to finish Fenris was square between Anders and the man, as well as a large warm body suddenly pressing into Anders’ back. He jumped and tried to turn to see who got him this time, only to recognise Hawke by his gauntlets when they came around to gently grasp his wrists.

“This man is _taken_ ,” Fenris repeated Isabela’s words, lower and more dangerous.

“What’s your problem, knife-ear? You hired the skinny and the busty? Where’d you even get that kind of money - never mind, I’ll pay the Madame double, so fuck off.”

Anders was just in time to grab Fenris’ wrist before he tried to punch the guy’s teeth out, even if he would’ve liked to see it. He had no way of stopping Isabela from getting violent, but luckily Hawke butted in in time for that.

He waved one gauntleted hand in front of the man’s face rudely, demanding his attention immediately.

“Hello, Champion to rude man, may I have a moment of your rich arse time? In case you didn’t notice, you already got told three times that this man is not for sale. Please take yourself out with your pathetic blue balls before we call for the Rose’s bouncers, because I assure you if it gets to that, I’ll be right behind you to make you very miserable.”

The man had blanched the moment Hawke referred to himself as the Champion, clearly realising very belatedly who was standing behind Anders now.

“Do I need to count down from three like some bully or are you going to find your way out yourself?”

Anders had never seen a man that large flee that fast.

“Wow. That looked like magic; better follow him, guys.” Isabela was grinning smugly and the Templars followed their friend in an appropriate hurry. “Maker’s balls, how I like being friends with the Champion of Kirkwall.”

Anders would quietly have to admit he agreed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been incredibly busy writing other things that had deadlines because they were for events or my July OTP challenge on tumblr, so I've had to put this story to rest for far too long. I had a little time today, so I quickly made a new chapter.  
> Apologies for not proofreading it first, but I didn't want to deprive anyone any longer.

As reassuring as the protectiveness of his friends had been, the whole experience hadn’t done much for Anders’ nervousness about going somewhere called a dungeon. The powerplay between them that he normally loved to bits sounded suddenly threatening; frightening even. Saying that being locked away was not his thing would be the understatement of the year.

What _did_  help was Fenris placing a hand on the small of his back while Hawke unlocked the door that was supposed to lead to their rented space. It was warm and comforting - also a bit pointy and sharp, but that was easy enough to ignore - and the mere gesture told Anders that Fenris was aware of his discomfort. 

Every single one of them had already proven they would only play if he was enjoying himself, despite their position of power over him. If Fenris knew, he was safe.

The relief almost made him feel guilty for not trusting the others in the first place.

The door opened to stairs down into the basement, solidifying the name ‘dungeon’. Going down, the space was only sparsely illuminated by small windows all the way up at the roof and a single torch at the door. There were plenty of torches available around the walls though, and one table had a multitude of candles in deep bloody red and regular white.

It wasn’t the torches that drew the attention to the walls though.

The walls were also lined with various devices and shackles that made it look more like a torture chamber down here. Anders only realised how tense he had become when Fenris pulled him a little closer.

“I believe this may be a little too much for our toy,” he stated calmly, drawing the attention of Hawke and Isabela who’d been gaping at everything presented all too eagerly.

Hawke at least had the decency to look guilty when he met Anders’ eyes, but Isabela slipped close to loop her arms around his neck and draw him down for a kiss.

“Don’t worry, sweet thing. We’re here to have fun, not to hurt you. Just ignore all those scary things on the walls and focus on us.”

“And if we do or suggest anything you don’t like, just say so and we’ll stop immediately,” Hawke was quick to add.

Anders nodded nervously, and he took a deep calming breath. Next thing he was opening his coat, ridding himself of his robes to remain in the middle of his friends wearing nothing but his boots and a butt plug.

By the look of it, his friends were rather pleased with the view.

“Come, I know just the thing to start with, sweet thing.” Isabela grabbed his wrist to pull him to the other side of the dungeon, where a stretch of leather hung from the ceiling in a rather peculiar fashion. Isabela grabbed a stool and motioned for him to get on, but after that he stood in confusion.

“Into the swing,” she encouraged, making a shooing motion for him. “Lay down in it on your back.”

Hawke seemed the first to understand what she meant, and he came to the other side of the swing to help Anders down in it. He cringed and twitched at the cold leather against his bare arse, but once he managed to lay down it was surprisingly comfortable.

And then Isabela took his ankles to place them in loops of the leather above and suddenly it was all too clear what this thing was for.

Exposed below at about the right height to be taken standing; his weight causing him to sink back and making his face equally available.

_Maker_.

“Now before you two boys go fuck him indiscriminately, let’s see if they still have those toys here with the vibration runes on them.” Isabela clapped her hands like a little girl at a sweets store. “I want to see how often we can make our toy cum tonight!”

“Two sovereigns we can wrench ten orgasms out of him.” Fenris smirked and took a hold of Anders’ cock, not hard yet from his nervousness. He teased it with tiny strokes between his fingertips and rolling the foreskin back and forth over the head.

“Fifteen,” Isabela countered confidently.

“Have some mercy,” Hawke intervened, still standing at Anders’ head. He rubbed Anders’ shoulders with two large hands, massaging it lightly in a calming fashion. “He was harassed just now, and incredibly nervous from all these dubious toys here. I don’t think he’ll manage ten in this state.”

Fenris was the first to dig two coins from one of his pouches, tossing them on Anders’ belly nonchalantly. Isabela followed suit and Hawke came last, increasing his bid to three sovereigns with a grin.

Anders’ stomach was fluttered, his cock hardening quickly under Fenris’ teasing and Hawke’s sweet care. They were playing with him so casually, using him as a table between them at the same time... Nervous as the devices on the wall made him before, he was no longer worried about them. His friends were successfully engaging him in their game, making him forget his irrational fears.

Irrational, because they would never make him do such a thing.

He gasped when Isabela suddenly grabbed the base of the toy in his arse, pulling it out and pushing it back in sharply. She thrust it in a few times before pulling it out completely, discarding it somewhere Anders’ couldn’t see. He heard her rummage, but all he knew was how empty he felt and how close Hawke’s cock was, but still out of his reach. He could practically smell the scent of Hawke’s cock already, even if it was hidden inside his breeches - tented breeches, but hidden nonetheless.

Fenris kept up his teasing little strokes even though Anders was fully hard now, and he whimpered in need. He was getting so much of their attention, but none of it enough. He needed to taste Hawke’s cock, feel Fenris’ fist his cock, _anything_  in his arse that was left so dreadfully empty now.

At least the latter need was fulfilled with Isabela’s return, and what she pressed in was a tad larger than the plug he wore daily. Not as big as any of his friends’ cocks, however, and not big enough to satisfy.

Not until Isabela did something to the still cold toy that made it come to life.

A buzz filled the dungeon as the toy started to vibrate lightly. Anders gasped and moaned in surprise, his muscles tensing but the swing merely moving along, keeping him in place without restraining a thing. He couldn’t move anywhere, even if he wanted to.

All he had was the teasing of Fenris’ fingers, already driving him insane, and that buzzing toy   
Isabela pressed deeper and deeper into him until she gave it a sudden tilt, pressing it hard against his prostate.

He might have been embarrassed about the way he cried out and arched in the swing, the coins launched off his torso to clatter on the floor while his seed splattered over his chest.

He might have been, if he didn’t know this was simply the first of many to come.

They were planning to wring him dry tonight.

His eyes rolled back and he moaned deeply, needily, to the throaty chuckle of Fenris that made his spent cock twitch immediately, the member not even softening.

A long night to come, and he doubted he’d be walking straight tomorrow.


	15. Chapter 15

Anders would have to be fair and admit he'd been mildly dreading this evening all week.

Not that he didn't like being a toy anymore, but that session in the dungeon of the Rose had been... very intense. And he was still recuperating, really, even if it had been days now.

Hawke, Fenris and Isabela had given him a break, at least. They had used his mouth if they wanted him, but nothing more. Considering they were the ones who made most extensive use of him anyway, it meant the ache in his arse was gone and his cock not so incredibly hypersensitive anymore.

And yet.

Luckily, even as the toy who was to do what he was told, he had a few tricks for mercy without having to outright say no. He didn't want to let it come to that, if possible, and so far his friends had been so lenient it was easy enough.

So when he entered the room, his eyes searched immediately for Sebastian, the one always eager to give him a rest and pet his hair all night long rather than letting him be used properly.

Sebastian had been ready for him.

Anders found himself swept away from Isabela's reaching hands, into Sebastian’s arms for a tight hug and a kiss placed on his temple.

His knees knocked together for a moment, overwhelmed by how quick the man was to care despite their differences. Despite who and what Anders was and how Sebastian _should_  feel about him.

As if he sensed it, Sebastian used two fingers to turn Anders' face towards him and kiss him slowly on the lips. A closed lips kiss, chaste by all means if not the heat in Anders' belly and the feeling of crackling air between them, like Fenris and Hawke always caused.

"Tonight, Ah got plans fer ye again, m'dear."

Anders nodded breathlessly and meekly followed when Sebastian entwined their fingers to lead him to the table. He was made to sit on the archer's lap, and he was already sinking into this boneless, purring mess under the man's stroking fingers when the last one of their group arrived. 

Sebastian calmly waited out the greetings - the quips being exchanged and the rolling laughter jokes being told - smiling most serenely with Anders on his lap. If asked now, Anders would be sure this would be his entire night, and he was rather happy with that.

Little did he know.

"Hogging our toy tonight, Sebastian?"

Fenris looked a little jealous, but there was no malice in his voice. Not much, anyway.

"Nae, Ah had nae such plans."

When Anders glanced around at Sebastian's face now, the serene look had been replaced by a smugmess befitting of the cat who ate the canary.

"Ah was actually hopin' Ah could convince you for a... a teambuilding exercise."

Eyebrows were raised and Anders got nervous.

Sebastian tapped Anders' butt to make him stand and leaned in to speak softly in his ear.

"Undress and lay down on the table. Ye dinnae need to worry, ye'll be fine."

Anders swallowed heavily and moved to obey, undoing his coat with trembling fingers while Sebastian addressed their friends like an audience of children.

"Ye see, Ah've noticed our toy being rather tense these days, and then Ah heard of this little trip ye made to the dungeons of the Blooming Rose and Ah had to wonder whether ye even took proper care of him afterwards."

"We haven't used him since to give him a rest," Hawke interjected, but Sebastian shook his head and clicked his tongue.

"Giving his.. nether regions the well deserved rest is merely one step of many. But one also needs to carry out proper maintenance."

Anders was shaking with nerves, acutely aware of the confused silence following Sebastian’s words. He noticed they were giving each other questioning looks before he dropped his head again, crawling onto the table carefully now he was naked.

"Aye, jist like that dear, on yer back; aye perfect."

Sebastian stood by his head to pet his hair a moment longer before one hand disappeared in a bag he'd been carrying.

"Ah see ye all looking like Ah'm mad, but ye're all people carrying arms and armour. Ye have'ta oil those too, keep them in top shape beyond cleaning and repairing. Ye sharpen yer blade from time to time to restore its sharpness, so why nae massage yer toy to restore his pliancy?"

A heavy bottle was placed next to Anders on the table, and it was dawning both on himself and their friends now.

"He's been visibly on edge for days. It is our responsibilty, our _duty_ , to make sure he can relax properly. We dinnae wish to break our toy because we cannae be bothered to keep him sharp."

"Oh choir boy, you can be such a tease sometimes, making us all worry like that."

Varric was shaking his head in amusement and Merrill giggled softly, clearly having caught on as well.

"Mah pleasure, Varric." Sebastian sounded a tad too smug, but Anders couldn't see his expression properly from below. "Ah take it ye all know how to massage muscles? We should jist all take some oil and pick a part of our pet to treat. We can make him feel like pudding fer sure."

"I can't massage muscles like warriors do but I do scalp massages really well," Merrill piped in, and Isabela was already reaching for the oil.

"Dibs on his cock!"

"Isabela! This is not-" Sebastian made place for Merrill at Anders' head to fight Isabela for the oil, and Anders shuddered on the table. He felt like a feast laid out like this, and it was both humbling and exhilarating.

Merrill's long fingers sank into his hair to lightly stroke his scalp, and _Maker_ she wasn't lying when she said she was good at this.

One by one the others pitched in as they got themselves oil as well. Isabela started on his crotch just around his still flaccid penis as expected, and Sebastian took Anders' left foot to start massaging it with slow presses of his thumbs. Aveline sat before Merrill so she could take care of Anders' shoulders and Varric took his left hand. Hawke claimed the other foot and finally Fenris took his remaining free hand, lifting it for a tender kiss to his palm before starting to spread the oil over his hand and lower arm.

It was... maddening. Hands all over him, giving him all that attention, kneading him into a pile of happy goo.

Isabela seemed to have opted against getting him aroused after all and was focusing on his thighs and hips, while every hand and foot was taken care of along with the lower limb to match. Everything was getting attention.

Everything was slick and oily and hot, and so relaxing.

Merrill started to hum something quietly, an elvhen song no doubt, and Anders found his eyes fluttering closed.

It was... blissful. Calm. It was like being embraced from all sides at once, enveloped in a hug of strangely many arms.

It was like they were really trying to massage him into pudding, and they were very much succeeding.

He felt lips on his cock now, and he realised only distantly he had grown hard after all. He was too relaxed to properly bother with arousal.

He was far too relaxed to hold back on his sounds, sleepy moans and whimpers spilling indiscriminately while he was stroked and kneaded and kissed.

It was just pleasure, warmth, happiness, Merrill's humming.

He was pudding and spilling.

When he woke, it was with a deep breath of surprise that he fell asleep in the first place. He was warm and comfortable and he was held close to a chest with the most magnificent pelt, and only a thin line of sunlight was creeping into Varric’s room to tell him it was morning.

Varric was fast asleep and clearly not bothered by Anders using him as a furry pillow, so Anders nestled back in.

Sure, he had stuff to do, but... as long as he was here, he was a toy, and he would not leave without being sent off. Plus, Varric’s bed was more comfortable than anything Anders had recently slept in.

His eyes fluttered shut once more and he smiled, all his muscles feeling heavy and relaxed like he was part of the bed.

He liked this maintenance of Sebastian. He hoped the others would wear him out more often so he could get this treatment again.


	16. Chapter 16

"Do you have any chairs your size around here, Varric?"

"Was that a slight to my _size_ , I hear?"

Isabela quickly made up for her mistake by cooing and petting Varric's chest hair, and with a few seconds she had Varric convinced. It was not unlikely he knew what she was up to, unlike Anders.

"There are several dwarven chairs stacked behind the bed. Watch one, one of them is wobbly."

"Got it. Anders, sweet thing, why aren't you undressing yet?"

Anders startled, realising he'd been lacking. He didn't waste more time to start shucking his clothes, face heating under the stares of his friends while Isabela went to collect a chair of the size she wanted. Whatever she wanted it for.

Something told Anders today was going to be a session of humiliation… and he was already growing eager for it. Much to the amusement of the others.

Merrill came to tug his cock a few times to make him fully hard, before pushing him towards the chair Isabela was just planting by the table. Just like the rest of the chairs, just lower. Much lower.

"Take a seat, sweet thing. We'll just tie you up to make sure you'll stay nice and still. Wouldn't want our chair to move while we are playing, do we?"

He swallowed and nodded wordlessly, lowering himself on the low chair. It was like sitting down on a chair made for children, his legs sprawling in front of him to accommodate for the depth. Isabela quickly tied his torso to the backrest, as well as his thighs to the seat. He muffled a small squeak when the bondage included his cock being jutted forward, stuck securely between loops of rope on either side.

A chair.

He was the chair. And his cock was just to sit on.

"Perfect," Isabela crooned. "I call dibs on the first round!"

"Good, maybe I can finally win some coin back if Isabela is busy riding our toy." Hawke was grinning, and clearly ready.

Little did he know.

Isabela only gave Anders a perfunctory stroke to make sure he was hard enough for her before dropping her smalls and mounting him. She was slick enough to make Anders feel like he was drowning, and he gasped loudly at the wet heat enveloping him. He could feel little of her soft buttocks against his thighs, due to the rope tying him in place, but the small brushes he could feel were blissful. Isabela was blissful.

Oh Maker, he was no doubt not allowed to cum until she was done with him.

He would find out soon enough that he wouldn't be able to, even if he wanted.

Isabela had no problem playing a wicked game of Wicked Grace while riding Anders at the same time. It turned out the dwarven chair made his lap to be the perfect height, just like the other chairs around. All Isabela needed to do was flex her thighs and bounce.

Anders was transfixed on the sight of the muscles in her thighs working - oh dear Maker she was _strong_ \- before he had to close his eyes against the pleasure she was giving him. Unlike her, he didn't need to work for it at all, and it was easy to get lost in the feeling. Get lost, right until he noticed how his building orgasm was being blocked by the ropes around his cock.

He whimpered at the realisation, and Isabela giggled on top of him.

"Oh, the toy notices he can't cum like this? But remember, you're a chair now. Chairs don't whimper. Chairs don't cum. So be good now, won't you, sweet thing?"

Anders pressed his lips together and gave a short, pained nod, and then he was ignored again. Cards were hidden between his and Isabela's legs as she cheated, and her movements kept up for the longest time, although soon she stopped the long bounce and it became more of a roll of the hips, sitting heavily on Anders' cock and fucking herself on it in small movements.

She skipped a round to chase her orgasm, at least.

Anders was biting his lip hard to keep his sounds in when she finally lifted off him, his cock and thighs slick from her. She was breathing heavily and ignored him entirely in favour of picking up her thong - not without bending over to give him an excellently teasing view - and putting them on.

"I'm done with the chair now, who's next?"

"Me!" Merrill was already on her feet, bouncing over excitedly. She didn't even need a pause to unbuckle her armour, just flipped her robes out of the way and sat on him in one go.

He couldn't stifle the sound of his sharp intake of breath.

Merrill was tighter than Isabela, and almost as wet. Considering Anders had noted before how Merrill was typically less wet than Isabela, it really said something about how excited she was for this.

She didn't waste a moment to start bouncing, and though her cards were slid over to her over the table she didn't take note of them anymore. Merrill was a one track mind sort of woman tonight, it seemed.

All Anders could do was try not to moan or whimper at the tight heat massaging his cock, his balls feeling ready to burst under their tight confinement of rope. The only mercy was that Merrill didn't need long to work herself to completion, her own fingers rubbing furiously against her core and his cock to help her over the edge.

She lifted herself off on shaky legs - her legs didn't have the sort of muscle Isabela was hiding there - and wobbled back to a chair with a goofy grin.

It was to everyone's surprise when Aveline approached him next.

"So you ended up speaking to Donnic about our toy?" Varric asked casually, not looking up at the warrior unbuckling her armour.

"I did." She confirmed coolly. "He was surprisingly positive about the whole thing. His only demand is that I take the toy home for us to share sometime."

Isabela whistled. "I knew I liked that man!"

"He's taken," Aveline threw back, looking mightily smug for a moment. And that was all Anders could get from her face, because then she turned around and took her seat with a pleased sigh. He muscles clamped around him like a vice - it would figure she was strong as an ox even in those muscles - and he was once again unable to stop a few whimpers from spilling.

"Are you going to deal the cards, or what, dwarf? I'm not here for you lot to gawk at."

Aveline… lasted much longer than Merrill.

Anders wasn't sure, but he could swear she lasted longer than Isabela too. She was tireless, bouncing up and down his lap, squeezing his cock with her muscles like she was trying to milk him. Only he couldn't cum, not with the clever way Isabela had tied him up. It was a blissful torture slowly advancing further into the painful torture, and yet he wanted it to never stop. He was used just like he wanted to be used, no matter his discomfort or his needs. It was perfect.

It was so perfect, he was both relieved and disappointed when Aveline finally skipped a round of cards and sped up her bouncing, using her fingers like Merrill to finish herself. The thought 'vice' came to the forefront of his mind again as she orgasmed, and he was all but wheezing when she finally stood.

"I'm going to leave him a little longer before wanting a second round," Isabela remarked casually. "I had a man over last night who had a cock so big, even I will need a little longer to recuperate."

"Aw, Isabela, we can do without the details." Hawke made a noise of disgust, as if he hadn't just been watching her and the other two ride Anders' cock right there at the table.

Anders was just a toy. Using him was not the same as sleeping with a man.

Anders was fully expecting to have a reprieve now. Merrill rarely wanted a second round, and Isabela wanted to wait, so who else would want to ride him? The men were much more interested in using his mouth or arse.

But he was wrong again.

His eyes nearly popped out when Fenris stood up and came over, pushing down his leathers just enough to bare his arse.

"Let's see if he's as good as you claim, Isabela."

Isabela was watching with rapt attention, but Anders was only getting alarm bells in his head. _Didn't Fenris need to prepare? Didn't he need to stretch, to slick, anything?_

The answer was no.

Fenris was much tighter than the ladies before him, but he relaxed his muscles and slid down Anders' cock with only a little effort. There was enough slick from the ladies before him to ease the way, and clearly he had come prepared.

Anders was openly whimpering this time. It was impossible to hold back, because if Aveline had been tightly squeezing him, she was nothing compared to the elf's arse. And Anders was already _quite_  overstimulated.

Fenris had even less mercy than Aveline.

He squeezed for no other reason than squeezing, as if to test the whimpering mage beneath him, and then set a slow pace of riding Anders. The whole room was lost to Anders now, because his entire world consisted of overstimulation, the scent of Fenris and his armour and a broad set of shoulders in front of him.

Distantly he could hear Isabela talking - asking? - with the most curious voice, and Fenris was answering her but his movements didn't falter for even a fraction of a second. He was moving like an oiled machine and Anders felt his eyes crossing in the overwhelming sensations of it.

And it didn't get any better.

It felt like Fenris rode him for hours, his pace maddeningly slow. There was only one short break where Fenris added something to slick their way, the lubrication left from the women not enough for such a long session.Aside from that, he didn't seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere.

It was driving Anders insane on all aspects.

He was so overstimulated it hurt, and the longer Fenris took the harder he started to wonder if his dick wasn't good enough to bring the elf pleasure. If Fenris was truly testing how good he was, like he told Isabela, this couldn't be a good sign. He did not speed up, growing closer to an orgasm, nor did he change up his movements.

On the other hand, he didn't stop either. Which was a good sign, probably.

Or it was for Fenris' enjoyment anyway. Not for Anders' comfort. But Anders didn't mind the discomfort, if he could please Fenris with it. This was his purpose, even if it hurt, even if he wanted to beg for release.

"Chairs should be quiet," came a sudden whisper in his ear, and he jolted in surprise at Isabela's voice. Fenris grunted a protest at Anders' movement but didn't let it disturb him further. He ignored Anders for what he was, a chair.

Unlike Isabela, who was apparently ready to tease him further.

She reached out of his sight under the chair, and suddenly he felt her hand gripping his balls from beneath. How she got her hand between the ropes was a mystery, but he cried up loudly, bucking helplessly in his bonds.

"Isabela, stop bothering my chair," Fenris growled from above, and Isabela just laughed. She obeyed nonetheless, leaving Anders to his fate of being ridden to death.

Or that's how it felt, anyway.

"I think he's reaching his limit," he heard her say distantly, but the world was swirling before his eyes and his blood rushing in his ears. All he could sense of his pounding heart and hurting erection was the rhythmic slap of Fenris coming down on him again and again.

Fenris' voice was responding to her, but he missed the words. He missed everything.

He also missed the control to stay quiet, groaning deeply and helplessly, moaning and whimpering each time Fenris came down.

Other voices were making demands, and suddenly he was free.

The ropes released, the tight bondage they formed around the base of his cock opening. His thighs were freed too, but he didn't have the strength in him to do anything about it.

All he knew was that Fenris was now squeezing around him again and finally speeding up. The overstimulation was agony and yet, when the elf leaned back against his chest and turned his head to nibble at his jaw, he only needed one guttural command.

"Come in me."

With that, Anders blacked out in the most intense orgasm he could remember.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to proofread and then I didn't. Sorry in advance and I hope y'all can enjoy the chapter anyway~

"I was at the Rose last night."

That was all Anders needed to hear to know to steel himself. She could've brought anything from the Hightown brothel, varying from the vibrating toys to the whole damn swing they kept in their basement.

Isabela still managed to surprise him.

After changing into the clothes she brought, he shyly re-entered Hawke's lounge, where the lot was currently gathered for a drink, a game and a private show.

He had all attention on himself instantly, and although his face grew a flustered red in response, he preened under the approving and surprised gazes.

Isabela had brought him - and help him lace tightly into - a dark green corset of luxury velvet trimmed with black lace. He had a flimsy little thong underneath, not covering much more than the short puffy petticoat that stood out from the bottom line of the corset.

More impressive was the train of the petticoat, turning thicker and longer towards the back into a long bustle of sheer black fabrics, swishing around his ankles as he walked.

She had also gotten him thigh high stockings that attached to the corset with a garter, long evening gloves of the same black lace as on the corset, and a curious little hat of the green velvet, decorated with large swathes of the black lace and feathers.

All in all, he looked ready for the dirty dancing Isabela wanted from him tonight.

Fenris was the first to motion him forward, looking entranced by his outfit.

Anders all but floated forward on silent, stockinged feet. He stopped close to Fenris' chair, only to be pulled closer until he was standing between the elf’s knees, granting the warrior the reach to touch whatever he liked.

Hands smoothed over Anders' bottom under the skirt first, as if wanting to reassure it was still there under the copious layers of lace, velvet and tulle.

"When you're done with whatever Isabela had in mind when she put you in this, I want to fuck you wearing this outfit until you can't walk straight."

Anders couldn't stop the needy little keen escaping his throat at the declaration. Fenris didn't even say it in his bedroom voice, just stating a calm fact as if in the middle of conversation.

"First me," Isabela reminded Anders, snickering into his ear while hugging him from behind. She let her hands trail up his body enticingly, and by the looks on Fenris' face, she was keeping her eyes on him while she teased.

"Dance for me, sweet thing."

"Dance?" He echoed questioningly. "I don't know how to dance."

"Sure you do." Isabela turned him in her arms, drawing him away from Fenris for more space before starting to sway her hips, guiding him to follow her example. "You have seen dancers at the Rose, and surely at the Pearl in Denerim as well. We may not have music, but we can clap a beat for you, and you just let your body move."

She released him and stepped away, clapping her hands in a slow rhythm for him to keep moving to. His face was flushed bright red in self consciousness, but he would follow her instructions regardless.

The others picked the beat up, Fenris knocking the side table beside him in an offset rhythm, enticing the others to follow into something that started to sound like music.

Anders let his hips sway, eyes glued on the floor, trying to dance after Isabela and back into the safety of her guidance.

She didn't let herself be caught.

Merrill stood up for him though, coming over to take his hands and guide him into moving them along with the beat. Flowing motions that were no doubt Dalish moves, but it felt less awkward to have his hands to dance with as well.

Hawke whistled at him when Merrill sat down again, and his face felt like on fire.

They were all watching him making an ass of himself, and it was equal parts humiliating and arousing, like many of the things they did. He was a dancer, an object to enjoy the sight of, not Anders.

He was free to move as he liked, beautifully dressed and admired.

His eyes slipped closed and he breathed deeply in through his nose, the movements coming easier, smoother, prouder. He rocked narrow hips from side to side, lifting his arms above him and letting them sink down his body with teasing touches. His feet knew where to step, his body knew where to go.

And just like that, he was grabbed at the hips and drawn down in a very eager lap, most certainly happy to see him.

He couldn't judge, with how his cock jutted proudly from the flimsy thong he wore, pushing up between the tulle and lace of the short front of the petticoat.

He ground down on Fenris' lap without questioning, without needing to look who he'd stumbled into.

It was harder to move this way, having to hold himself up just high enough to roll his hips as if he was doing things to the elf's cock - things he regretfully wasn't doing. Fenris' hands kept him in place, stopping him from pulling away to dance further, but not keeping him down sitting. No, he was dancing, and Fenris was clearly most eager to see him do that.

He rolled his hips and ground on the hard bulge in Fenris' leggings, fingers teasing by outer thighs and then up his own body again. He heard several gasps as he stretched as far as the tight laced corset would let him, arms above him for a second before dipping down again.

And this time he escaped.

With a clever twist he was out of Fenris' hands and off of his lap, dancing away teasingly until he dutifully picked his own beat up again. Anders danced over to Hawke to give him a similar treatment as Fenris, rocking down onto his lap, his clothed erection straining against finery for some of that friction.

Fenris' eyes burned him with how intently he was still watching, and Anders was sure he'd swallow him whole if given the chance.

So Anders swayed his hips some more, turned and bent to give Fenris a perfect view, and delighted in the attention.

He couldn't wait to get fucked until he couldn't walk straight again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always a sucker for Anders in burlesque outfits. It's astonishing I haven't put him in one before.


End file.
